


I love you simply, without problems or pride

by Ephemeral_Joy



Series: i love you in secret, between the shadow and the soul [2]
Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Romance, School, based on what we already know of s3, follow up on afoot and lighthearted, so ignore s2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-18 21:46:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20198674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephemeral_Joy/pseuds/Ephemeral_Joy
Summary: One and a half years after the events of "Afoot and Lighthearted", Gilbert is ready for a new chapter in his life.  But with Anne not giving any signs of loving him back and a whole new tribe finding a home in Avonlea, his time is spread thin.And has he really been able to cope?





	I love you simply, without problems or pride

**Author's Note:**

> yikes we're back. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER:  
\- This is a SEQUEL to "Afoot and Lighthearted I Take to the Open Road". I highly request you read that story first as this series does NOT follow the canon.  
\- This story is much more lighthearted then the first, but it still deals with many issues regarding Gilbert's mental state and themes such as racism.  
\- updates will be sporadic. i'll be going to university in september (yay for me!) meaning that i'll be busy. but don't worry, i NEVER discontinue a story that I upload. 
> 
> title from Pablo Neruda "100 Love Sonnets" | not edited | not beta'd

‘James!’, Gilbert roared, staring in terror at the drowning man in the restless sea. The waves were tumbling and crashing over and around and underneath James, simply a mop of blonde visible for the paralysed onlookers on the deck. Gilbert’s heart was being ripped out of his chest, the splinters in his eyes resurfaced, he felt the bile of vomit form in his throat. When he blinked, he was trembling in the dingy infirmary with James unconscious on a metal table in front of him.

‘Gilbert! Stay alert!’, the doctor yelled. His hands were drenched in blood. The young boy cried, yet no sound came from his lips. 

‘Gilbert!’   
Flicker, blood, vomit, red, blue, crash, crash,  _ crash _ , he can’t see, he can’t see - why can’t he see? 

‘Gilbert?’

He screamed, smelling the vile scent of vomit at the corners of his mouth. He clenched his fists, feeling the needle pierce his callous skin and the thread looping around his fingers. Suffocating. 

Why was he here? Where was his father? He needed-

‘Gilbert!’

Gilbert’s eyes shot wide open, his scream shaking the wooden floors of his bedroom. His body was trembling of the nightmare, but as he he tried to move he realised that Bash had said his name and was holding him locked on the bed. 

‘Wha-?’, he sputtered, muscles flexing to get out of Bash’ tight hold. Sunlight blasted through his windows, remembering he forgot to shut his curtains last night after studying long after dinner. 

‘You were hurting yourself,’ Bash explained, releasing him slowly. He scratched his beard. 

The boy puffed a breath, wiping the sweat from his eyebrows. He couldn’t believe it has happened twice this week already, and it wasn’t even Friday yet. 

Bash sighed, sitting at the edge of the bed. ‘You know you can talk to me about it.’

‘I’d rather not,’ Gil mumbled. His voice was gravelly, he realised. Anne would surely comment on it. 

Alice started wailing. 

‘Bash!’, Mary yelled. The man in question groaned. 

‘You know, I didn’t sign up for two babies.’

Gil’s lips quirked up. ‘Asshole.’

Bash winked at him, before dashing away to tend to his newborn baby. From one crying body to the other. Gilbert felt guilty whenever his nightmares happened, but he couldn’t stop them. Sometimes, they faded to the back of his mind and didn’t resurface for weeks or even months, but other times (like now) it was banging on the door like a maniac. Urging him to let them in again. The thoughts, the memories. The most reoccurring dreams were of his father dying (the life slowly fading from his eyes, skin becoming ashy green, one last sputtering breath, an apologetic smile and a cold pinky on top of Gil’s hand) and of James’ near-death experience. He supposed that after having them for nearly two years, he was stuck with them for life. 

Whatever, Gilbert concluded as he stepped out of bed. There are worse things in life. 

After having changed into his white henley and brown trousers, he ran downstairs into the kitchen. From his peripheral vision, he saw an exhausted Mary slack in the couch. God knows how many times Alice had woken up during the night. 

Bash stumbled in behind him, baby against his chest. 

‘Start breakfast, would you?’, Bash asked, trying to shush the crying child. Mary moaned, cracking one eye open.

‘Of course!’ Gilbert toasted the bread, sliced a few apples and put hot water on the stove for tea. As he went through the routinuous steps, Mary had awakened from her semi-slumber and took the baby from Bash to breastfeed her at the dinner table. The couple had a big argument when the baby first was born. Whilst the popularity of formula had risen, Mary still insisted on breastfeeding Alice. Bash had been scared that there was a chance Mary’s milk wouldn’t sustain the baby, but they were a year in and Alice was healthy. Gilbert wasn’t very optimistic though, but he kept that to himself. 

(Moody’s mother had ten children of which two remained: Moody and Ella. Gilbert hoped Alice would be an exception.)

Gilbert quickly placed the pieces of toasted bread on a plate, taking one for himself as he was beginning to run late for school. (Well, not for school, but for someone else.) He smeared some jam on top of it and shoved three apple slices in his mouth. 

‘Don’t forget to brush your teeth!’, Mary exclaimed, noticing his hurry. Alice was placed in her seat. 

After Gilbert got his bag and brushed his teeth (of course he didn’t forget, he wouldn’t come anywhere near Anne if he hadn’t) he swiftly kissed Mary on the cheek, Alice on her forehead and Bash a pat on the shoulder. 

One part of him whispered ugly things on particularly bad days how they weren’t his family, but another part of him, the  _ most _ of him, loved them all dearly. They were his second chance at a family. A normal life. Who cared if the town looked at him oddly, as if he traded his soul with the devil to live with  _ those  _ people? Bash was the best thing to ever happen to him after meeting a certain ginger.

Speaking of which. 

‘I need to go! See you all tonight!’

The couple bid him goodbye, Alice clapping her hands. Gil smiled: cute. 

As he ran down the hill from his property, he looked down at his watch. 

‘Shit,’ he mumbled. Anne had probably ran of to school already, but he was going to look anyway. 

It was a surprisingly warm autumn morning, a breeze soft against his skin as he trod through the mossy, moist parts of the forest. A couple of small children passed him along the way, giggling and jumping over roots. Gilbert was already dreading the day he had to wear his winter coat again; Canadian winters were brutal. 

A red blob appeared in the distance, legs dangling from the gate she sat on. Gilbert grinned, his step quickening. When he got closer, Anne jumped of the gate, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She still refused to follow the proper decorum and wear her hair up, as was expected of seventeen year old girls, and instead braided two smaller part of hair and pinned it back. Anne had retired the two big braids a little over a year ago. She was prettier, he thought. (But really, she just  _ became  _ prettier every year and Gilbert still didn’t know how to handle that.)

‘You’re late,’ Anne said as a greeting, grabbing her basket from the ground. 

‘Yet you’re,’ he tapped her nose, ‘still here.’ 

Anne stuck her tongue out, starting a steady pace.

When Gilbert casually started escorting Anne to school (Really, it  _ was  _ casual. It just happened one day, coincidentally, and then they just kept it going. Serendipity, he called it.), he had expected Marilla to throw a fit due to the cultural subtext of it. Courting and all that. And yeah, Anne did read his love letters and they did indeed kiss the day after on his porch but - Gilbert lost his train of thought for a second - but then… life got in the way, he reckoned. Bash found him again and met the new love of his life, Mary, then Mary got pregnant, meanwhile Josie married a rich business man from Toronto, popular boy Cole ran off to Charlottetown, and Billy just... disappeared.

(Not entirely true. His parents told the town that he joined the army, but Billy never said anything in advance. One day he just didn’t show up to class. No one has seen him ever since. Jane was devastated for a month.)

The conglomerate of all these events kept Anne and Gilbert busy, which in turn made them never talk about that morning ever again. 

Now, they were just friends. Gilbert sometimes wondered if she was waiting for him to make a move or if she just lost interest. He simply needed a sign that Anne wanted him, but so far that was fruitless. It’s been a year and a half since. 

‘Gil?’

‘Hm?’

‘I asked how Alice and Clara were. Rachel said some awful things about them, but she’s just a racist, I think.’

Anne coined the term to him a few months ago when she was reading a book about First Nations People (which she found in the locked part of the town’s library) and expressed her concerns about the validity of the information. 

("They're all just a bunch of racists but they're acting like they did the right thing! And it's still happening right now?" 

"Racists?" 

"Yeah, people that hate people that have a different skin tone. Like people are with Bash! They're all just a bunch of Billy's: lifeless plants without an opinion." 

"That's harsh."

"It's the truth, Gil.") 

'They're fine,' Gilbert smiled, 'they're lucky they look like Mary though.'

Anne giggled, slightly embarrassed at Gil's backhanded comment. He grinned, he loved making her laugh. It might be his favourite sound in the world. 

'How was the reading yesterday?' 

'Oh, marvelous!' Anne clapped her hands together, eyes shining. 'The children really loved what I did with all the voices in The Jungle Book! Thanks for lending it to me, by the way. I wish I could do it more… It's honestly the best feeling  _ ever _ to make children laugh and…,' she sought a word, flailing her arms, 'and making them feel these extraordinary feelings! I wish I was still as captivated by a magical story as they are.'

'I guess that's the bad part of growing up,' Gilbert shrugged. 'You can still choose to keep the wonder though.'

Anne peered at him, amused, ' _ The _ Gilbert Blythe teaching  _ me _ about wonderment?'

He rolled his eyes, bumping her arm. Sometimes he wondered why he even liked her. 

After a moment she spoke again. 'For what it's worth, I do think you bring some wonder in my life.'

A rush of adrenaline went through him, unable to keep the beam of his face. 'Oh,  _ really _ ?' 

Anne puffed, yet he could see the tinge of red of her cheeks. Cute. 'Don't inflate your ego, Blythe. I said "some".'

He pulled at a ringlet of her hair, affectionate. Sometimes he couldn't help himself and touch her when she was acting like this. However, it didn't seem to bother her. 

'I'm happy you're here too, Anne.'

Her face softened, a genuine smile tugging at her lips. When things were hard after he came back from sea, Anne was the only one for weeks that gave him support. Someone to talk to without judgment and knowing that she'd never taint his trust. Sadly, they didn't talk about that period of their life either. Maybe because Anne thought he didn't want to. He didn't know. 

They got to a familiar clearing in the forest, one where Anne and him spent most of the summer lazing around when they didn’t have to work. ‘I forgot to say I won’t be at the dinner this weekend,’ Gilbert added, watching as she plucked a flower.

Anne frowned. ‘Why? Marilla looks forward to see all of you.’

After Bash found a home with Gilbert in Avonlea and met Mary, Anne was quick to help them out as she was once a newcomer in their close-minded town too. Despite Marilla’s reluctance at first, the woman quickly became amicable with the couple and found new friends. It has been a while since they met up, therefore a dinner was planned. Gilbert had other plans though. 

‘It’s my apprenticeship. He’s sick and he wants me to take over for the weekend.’

Anne’s frown deepened. ‘But you don’t have a diploma.’

Gilbert shrugged. ‘I guess I have enough experience to check if someone has a cold or not.’

Anne threw the flower in her basket. ‘What? But  _ I _ , the most intelligent of our class, can’t take over from miss Stacy for  _ once _ ?’ She puffed. ‘People have much too little imagination for them to see that I am already  _ perfectly  _ fit to teach! But sure, you can go be a  _ doctor _ . Pfft. Ridiculous.’ 

Her ramble made him grin, taking the wicker basket from her hands to grab her attention. ‘Don’t worry, Anne. You’ll be teaching little brats in no time.’ Gilbert found himself a little shameful of his thoughts when Anne perked up and smiled at his words: he felt like it was his goal to make her happy because in turn, that would make him happy. It was lame and he was truly a hopeless cause.

They traipsed through the meadow in comfortable silence, basket still in his hand. Anne plucked more flowers as they went, weaving them into a crown. Once the school got into view, she placed the crown on his head with a cheeky grin, bumping their shoulders together. 

‘Why do you always put these on me?’, Gilbert sighed, yet didn’t take it off.

‘It makes you look really…,’ Anne pursed her lips, looking for the right word. It was a habit she had taken on from Marilla. ‘boyish, I suppose?’

‘Is that a good thing?’

‘Yeah.’ Anne smiled, eyes tracing his face that made his heart pump in his throat. ‘It is.’

It was times like these that he remembered she didn’t forget about what happened to him. That she didn’t forget about the many evenings she stayed with him in the Green Gables shed and helped him calm down from an angry flare or a regretful spiral. That she didn’t forget how she had caressed his cheek with a cold piece of cloth and smiled at him and told him it was going to be okay. Eventually. Like now. 

She took the crown and basket from his body as he opened the door for her, seeing the others were already there aside from Moody and miss Stacy. Ever since they turned sixteen, miss Stacy proposed to make a group of dedicated students to finish their schooling in Avonlea before they went to university once they were eighteen. Most quit and started working on their respective farms or in the city as a merchant, but a few stayed, having bigger aspirations. Those few being Anne, Diana, Ruby, Charlie, Moody and him. The six of them had a unique connection, one unlike anything else - They were the only children in Avonlea that were planning to escape the sleepy town. Diana, for example, planned on becoming a fashion designer. Every Monday, funded by her father, she came to class sporting a new dress with intricate details. Moody on the other hand has found a passion in electricity and constantly held discussions with Stacy about all the possibilities. Their study group was of preparatory means, but they still had general lessons such as English (to his dismay) and maths ( _ much _ to Anne’s dismay). 

‘You’re late,’ Diana quipped, twirling a tendril of hair around her finger. Her blue dress glittered in the morning sunlight. How she did it, he had no idea.

Anne gasped, leaving his side and practically jumping on Diana’s lap to touch the fabric. ‘Is this from the sketch you showed me last week?’, she asked, eyes filled with wonder. The girl caressed the skirt as Diana answered with a polite smile. ‘Yes! Isn’t it pretty?’

‘It’s  _ dreamy _ ,’ Ruby replied. She picked up the skirt with a colour that matched her name. ‘Diana made this for me too, it’s an absolute dream to wear!’

‘Don’t worry, Anne, your green one is almost done,’ Diana reassured when seeing Anne’s face. 

Anne plopped in her designated seat, the one to her left free for him. ‘Is it a fresh green? Or is emerald? Oh, wouldn’t that be exquisite! Ruby as a ruby, you as a sapphire and me as an emerald.’ 

‘Maybe that’ll finally help me get a guy,’ Ruby muttered, fishing her books out of her basket.

‘You don’t need a guy to excel in life, Ruby.’ Anne rolled her eyes as Gilbert sat next to her. He always swallowed hard whenever she gave her supposed wisdom of romance to Ruby and Diana - did she mean it? 

‘Easy for you to say,’ Ruby quirked an eyebrow, ‘you have Gilbert.’

Gilbert grimaced whilst Anne sputtered out vowels with a reddening face. ‘What?! Ruby,  _ please _ .’ She practically shoved him off his chair. ‘Gilbert and I? Never in a million and one years, right Gil?’

‘Right.’

‘Ugh,’ Moody groaned, dropping his head on the table, ‘can we stop talking about this? It’s too early for this.’

‘Agreed,’ Charlie said, rubbing his temples.

Ruby puffed. ‘You have no right to speak; you’re Diana’s boyfriend.’

Miss Stacy strode into the room. ‘Enough squabbling, we have  _ plenty  _ of work to do.’ She placed her bag on her desk, pushing the flyaways away from her face and had that familiar, curious gleam in her eye. ‘I have discovered some interesting information in terms of chemistry.’

As miss Stacy elaborated on the topic, he felt Anne’s hair being brushed over one shoulder to take notes and touch his shoulder. Unintentionally, he supposed, but his body was all too aware of her presence. He glanced at her from his peripheral vision, seeing a soft smile on her lips. He wondered if she knew if she changed too. She was… more vulnerable. Whenever their eyes locked, she didn’t look away unlike before. She didn’t cower away to show her emotions around him anymore. The seed was planted at his sixteenth birthday, and it only grew from there. 

He was pretty sure he loved Anne, and he was only waiting for a sign she felt the same. 

Whereas Anne and Ruby went straight to the rebuild clubhouse in the woods to discuss their newest stories, Gilbert ran home. Ever since Mary birthed Alice and Clara, they needed all the help they could. Between studying for medicine, he was helping Bash on the field and babysat the children when they were away. It was exhausting, but he was eternally grateful to not sit in silence in his own home. 

The babies were asleep in their cot when he arrived home, with Mary brewing something on the stove. The moment Bash stood on his threshold for the first time, he brought along a variety of exotic spices he had only heard of on his trips abroad. Since then, their house always smelled warm and exciting. He especially loved it when Bash made chili.

‘How was school?’, Mary asked. Despite the bags under her eyes, she was able to smile. 

‘It was good,’ he said, cracking his neck. ‘Where’s Bash?’

‘On the field.’ Mary eyed him for a second, smirk on her lips. ‘You have that smile on her face again.’

‘What smile?’ 

Mary whipped him with a piece of cloth. ‘You know  _ what _ .’ 

Gilbert tsked, sitting down at the dinner table and grabbed his homework. Bash came in from the back door, hands black from the dirt. 

He took one look at Gilbert. ‘Ah, he has that smile on his face!’

Mary laughed, ‘That’s what  _ I _ said!’

The boy rolled his eyes. ‘Very funny.’

‘Did you finally confess your love to Little Ginger?’, Bash asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

‘Please,’ Mary scoffed, ‘as if he has the guts to.’

‘I’m right here, guys,’ Gilbert said. He couldn’t help but feel warm, like the chili Bash would make, whenever they teased him like this. 

Life was good right now.

  
  
  


(If only he knew how to tell Anne how he felt.)

**Author's Note:**

> want to talk to me more? https://lydias--stiles.tumblr.com/


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